He'd been bad to her, had wronged her big, and he knew it, and she knew it. And she was going to punish him for it, and they both knew that too.
She waited almost two weeks. He thought she'd forgotten. It was Saturday morning. They had coffee, breakfast, did the crossword puzzle together. He went to the bathroom, crapped, felt good to be nice and empty. Little did he know...
Coming out of the bathroom, he almost ran into her. "Into the bedroom." She ordered him without explanation, without emotion in her voice, just a simple command. No explanation was necessary. Her tone was one of expectation of obedience.
In the bedroom, he turned and looked at her questioningly. She said nothing, but went to the closet and pulled out some light, though adequate, ropes. "No, no, not that," he said.
She walked over to the bed, pushed him down onto it, grasped his wrist, and deftly tied a rope around it. Then, the other wrist, the two bound together. She pulled the other end of the rope through the fastener on the headboard of the bed, then pulled it until his hands and wrists were up near the headboard. Tying it off, she moved to his legs.
A rope around the ankles secured them together.
Another rope around the knees bound his legs tightly together.
Using that same rope, which still had plenty of length left, she made a slip knot of some kind near his knees, then thrust the end of it under his body and around his back. "No, no, not this way!" he pleaded. She passed the end of the rope through the slip knot and pulled, drawing his knees to his chest, then tied it.
"What, what are you going to do?" His voice was now nervous. He hadn't experienced anything quite like this with her before. But then, he hadn't offended her like this before, either.
She pulled some towels out of the closet, came back to him, rolled him on his side, placed the towels on the bed, then rolled him onto his back, the towels under the part of his bottom that was still on the bed, most of it being exposed along with his balls. His penis was only slightly visible in the crack between his tied-together legs.
"Are you going to blindfold me?"
"No. I want you to see me, to see what I'm doing to you."
Still silent, she began stripping, eyes locked on him. She watched him watch her undress. Her movements were strong. Not gentle feminine movements, but masculine, rapid, sure and certain. She could have removed the bra slowly, he would have enjoyed that. But she whipped it off, and he sensed her anger. She looked bad.
The blue jeans gave her a rough look. She took her time undoing the belt. Had she dressed like this intentionally, he wondered? Had she chosen THAT belt intentionally, THAT black belt with the flat metal studs? She pulled it off, then slowly folded it and grasped the ends, holding it in a loop, looking at him.
"No, no." He begged her.
"This will last until you are crying." She approached the bed on the right side, his head being to her left, his exposed bottom to her right. She sat down next to him, grasped his legs with her left hand around his tied-up knees, and pulled back slightly, to fully expose his bared bottom and testicles. She held the belt in her right hand.
"What's the safe word?"
"There'll be no safe word for this part."
"No, no, please, I'm sorry." It was too little, too late.
She pulled back with her right arm, then SMACK, smacked him hard with the belt, right on his cute round butt cheeks. He cried out. She paused for a second, to let the pain sink in. A red welt appeared. Then again, WHACK.
Each time the belt hit, he cried out. Each time, she paused, just for a couple seconds. Then repeated. Again and again.
She'd spanked him before, but never like this. It had hurt before, but not much, just enough to feel GOOD. But now, it was beginning to REALLY hurt.
She continued. He felt teary. Then more. He felt sorry for what he'd done to her. Tears began to roll down from the corners of his eyes. She continued, a few more times. His tears were streaming, and he was now sobbing. She stopped.
Through the tears, he saw her return to the closet, and this time she came out with the harness and dildo. His emotional level was too high right now to voice objections.
She unbuttoned her jeans, watching him again as she did so. She slid both the jeans and her panties down at the same time. It was clear she meant business, no fooling around. Nude now, she grabbed the harness and began fastening the leather belts to her pelvis. The long black straps hung way down, giving her a look that spoke of power and domination.
She took the dildo, a realistic black penis made of silicone, nicely sized, not too small, not too big, and inserted it into the harness. She approached him on the bed again.
"Your safe phrase will be 'I'M AN ASSHOLE.' Say it. Say it so I know you heard it!" and with that, she grabbed his hair and pulled back.
"I'M AN ASSHOLE." There, he'd said it. His tears had stopped. His ass cheeks still burned. He knew what was next, or at least part of it.
"Lick my cock, make it wet!" She thrust the dildo in his face and pulled his mouth to it. He took it into his mouth, and for the first time, had some sense of what it would be like to go down on a man. He licked it, moistened it, took it fully in, felt embarrassed, ashamed.
Pulling back, pulling it from his mouth, she stood, grabbed some lubricant from the night stand, moved down to the end of the bed, and climbed on it so that she faced his exposed bottom and balls. She reached out and pushed his knees down to the side, to the bed, so that he could see the dildo, then began to lubricate it, eyes on him.
He watched her hands move over the tool in an experienced way; he studied her body, her lean and muscular arms, her breasts, her pelvis, so sexy, so bad right now. He saw the look of conviction in her face. It turned him on to see her like this, to see her so in charge, so ready to get what she wanted.
She finished. "Say it again."
